Alice, a Beagle, enters the living room, where Comet, another Beagle, is napping on the loveseat. Comet lifts his head and sniffs.

Comet: Somebody’s been to the vet.Alice: Right-o.Comet: Treats?Alice: That chicken-mush baby food and Pill Pockets.Comet: Pills?Alice: Probably, somewhere. Didn’t chew.Comet: Smart. You sick?Alice: Thanks for noticing. Colitis.Comet: Metronidazole twice a day with food.Alice: You could have saved me a ride in the car.Comet: I thought you liked the car.Alice: I don’t hate it the way you do, but that’s true of every mammal on the planet.Comet: I’m all right in the car.Alice: You whimper like you’re on death row.Comet: I think of it as keening.Alice: Then you’re giving keening a bad name. I think of it as being a basket case.Comet: Colitis, huh? You under stress?Alice: You’re kidding, right?Comet: Um. Maybe I missed something.Alice: They should print that on your collar. First there was the move …Comet: We moved?Alice: Amazing. What did you think that 10-hour car ride was about, with you … keening … all the way?Comet: To me they all seem to last forever.Alice: Next trip I’ll cry like a schoolgirl for a couple of hours and see if that doesn’t sharpen your sense of time passing. You didn’t notice we’re in a new house?Comet: But the loveseat …Alice: Same loveseat, different house.Comet: It does smell different.Alice: There you go.Comet: Ten hours?Alice: Every minute of it. And you whining start to finish.Comet: Change upsets me.Alice: I’m the one with colitis.Comet: Moved! Ha! I thought I was just disoriented.Alice: A safe bet. You can’t smell the ocean?Comet: Duh.Alice: Could you smell the ocean before?Comet: Before?Alice: Focus. Before the 10-hour car ride.Comet: Who remembers? No wonder you’ve got colitis.Alice: That’s what I was thinking.